The Failsafe
by Frost Leonhart
Summary: The war is over; Dark won. In the aftermath of the bloodbath known as the Purging, hope is utterly lost. At the center of the chaos is a twisted and destroyed woman who had been forsaken by the Light. Little does she know that Dumbledore had turned her into the ultimate key to win the war, from the grave. Eventual HG/SS. Please Review!


**The Failsafe****  
**(Working Title)

By: Frost Leonhart

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**AN:** I'm open to suggestions for titles, and would actually love help with it. I don't know how long this fic is going to be; it just sort of hit me (WHAM!) in the shower the other day and demanded to be shared.

**Disclaimer:** The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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**Chapter One: The One With The Onyx Eyes**

She apparated into the ballroom and landed ever so elegantly into her winged, high-backed chair. Dark smoke curled around her silk clad body and slowly vanished to reveal her form. Her legs seductively crossed in an elegant manner; her stilettos peeked out from under her long dress. Her wand arm rested on the support and her wand languidly dangled from her fingertips. Already the Inner Circle was stationed around the room, waiting to carry out passed judgment. Her crimson eyes swept around the room to assess the current plunder of humans from the Snatchers, and narrowed in rage. Worthless fools, the lot of them. Familiar eyes stared back at her in a mixture of emotions. Unforgiving chocolate brown eyes, dazed sky-blue ones, cautious onyx eyes, devastated green ones; the list went on and on.

Once upon a time, she would have put her life on the line without hesitation to save them. But that person was long gone. That person had died a very brutal, painful and humiliating psychological death several months earlier. And these people – these fucking people hadn't done damn thing when she had screamed and begged and cried for their help. As she had writhed on the floor of the Malfoy Manor library, her mind had been shattered and her body abused, bleeding and broken; and in an act of mercy, the Angel of Death had reached out to her with cold, skeletal fingers and had touched her. That had been the defining moment. All that she had been no longer mattered. This was what she was now – a powerful creature of the Dark.

Suddenly her Angel of Death was there. His icy fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and she leaned into his touch. Savoring it with closed eyes before the unforgiving chocolate brown eyes damned her to the deepest depths of Hell. Irritated by the disruption, she fired off a Crucio that sent the chocolate brown eyes screaming from pain.

"Remain silent, you filthy blood traitor!" she demanded when she finally terminated the Unforgivable.

The chocolate brown eyes lay limply on the cold marble floor, gasping for breath.

"Settle down, my pet," Voldemort soothed as he pulled her to his side and down to her knees. His fingers stroked her hair. He turned his bright red eyes onto the crowd and addressed them, "See what happens when Dumbledore forsakes one of your own? They grow into their rightful power."

Many looked at her with horror or guilt, but she didn't care. She focused on the Dark Lord's caress.

"And now, my lovely one, choose one of these chattel for your personal collection. Your Dark Lord offers this small token of appreciation for your many services these past months."

She was shocked and looked up into Voldemort's bright red eyes with pure adoration. The Dark Lord was gracing _her_ with gifts! She had final achieved, if not surpassed, Bellatrix in rank and favor. A smug smile graced her lips as she remembered how the Dark Lord had given her the privilege to kill the bitch.

"Your generosity knows no bounds, my Lord." She hastily kissed the hem of his luxurious robes. When he deemed her adoration enough, he motioned for her to stand and proceed.

Her crimson eyes swept back around the now offerings; this time assessing them like livestock. Many would go to slaughter, but there were always a few worth keeping for pets, or breeding, or magical siphoning; or entertainment.

The sky-blue eyes would be fun to set off but she would grow bored of the frothing reaction soon enough; and if she was being honest with herself, she wanted that one in particular dead. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that the sky-blue eyes were dangerous when backed into a corner. The chocolate brown eyes would be equally entertaining to provoke and destroy. All it would take would be the death of a few select people and the chocolate brown eyes would break. Her eyes noted the thin gold band and that the chocolate eyes had put on weight since the last time they had seen one another. That one would make for good breeding. The tearful green eyes were far too old to be of any use. Most definitely off for slaughter. Finally she settled on the onyx eyes. Her breath stopped for a moment as she assessed. Yes. She rather liked that one. It would be quite the challenge to break; and the reward would be all that much greater.

"I would like that one, my Lord," And she pointed to a bloodied, defeated form. "The one with the onyx eyes."

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**AN:** Yay! first chapter's up! Anyone want to take a guess as to who is who via eye color. 1000 pts. to the person who can guess the crimson eyes!


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